On beachfront property in Ohio, idealistic pizza, and interspecies relations
The Red River is surging! North Dakota is flooding! What will this mean?!
I'm going to finally make a killing on that beachfront property I bought in Ohio. C'mon, global warming — let's turn that backyard cornfield into a peaceful ocean vista. I have a surfboard and margaritas all ready to go.
The State Senate is debating a transportation bill that would, among other things, eliminate the Massachusetts Turnpike Authority. What are your ideas for transportation reform?
Personally, I am still disappointed that we don't have flying cars yet. I feel like I was promised flying cars. While I wait impatiently for that technology, I am proposing vigilante justice and road pirates.
Describe the ideal pizza.
I'd rather describe an idealistic pizza. A pizza with a dream. A pizza that wasn't afraid to keep on loading on toppings way after everyone said it wouldn't make it — pineapple and buffalo chicken. It didn't care. It would dust the peppercorn flakes off of its tough cheese exterior and get right back up on that brick oven and ride off into the sunset.
The prosecutor in the Phil Spector trial has called him "a demonic maniac." Come on, you can top that insult.
"Hellspawn"? "I'll bet your wig killed her"? "I hated your Christmas album"? Actually, I have always liked that Christmas album . . . even if the Christmas gift to me from Phil Spector was murder.
If you could have sex with any cartoon character, past or present, who would it be?
Hobbes. It might be interspecies, but he was always so introspective. I just feel like he would be really giving in bed. Or Daphne from the Scooby-Doo gang. I'd like to find out if the inking matches the drapes, if you know what I mean.
JESS SUTICH, IN "A NIGHT OF ORAL (TRADITION)" | First Thursday of every month at 10 pm | ImprovBoston, 40 Prospect St, Cambridge | 617.576.1253 or www.improvboston.com
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